OuttakesSpillout Fluff
by fortheloveofawerewolf
Summary: Here are some one-shots, scenes that didn't make it into the plot of other stories, scrapped beginnings and just fluffy things to brighten your day:D (also a few heartbreaking one shots if you need a good cry). All are canon unless marked otherwise. COMPLETE
1. How I met your father

**Here's a one-shot from Mrs. Everdeen's POV when Katniss was a kid. I know Mrs. E gets a lot of crap for being a basically crappy mom when her girls needed her most (and I still have no respect for that) remember that she wasn't always that way, that her husband have her life so when he was gone, he snuffed her out as well.**

 **I hope you enjoy this fluffiness!**

 **How did Mr. Everdeen meet Mrs. Everdeen, if she was town and he was Seam?**

"I was outside the fence, getting herbs and plants for my parents' medicines. You know, they were the apothecaries in town?" I wait for Katniss's nod of understanding. "And I heard a voice so beautiful, I dropped my shoe in the lake."

"You were all the way out to the lake?" Katniss squeaked.

"Yeah, sweet pea, I went there every two weeks and I loved to swim there, all by myself. Of course, that changed when I saw your daddy coming up with his shirt halfway off, getting ready for a dip himself."

Katniss's eyes grew wide and I nearly blushed at the memory even now.

"I was already in my swimming clothes," she doesn't need to know I swam in my underwear, right? "And I screamed when I saw him!" She looked shocked.

"But Daddy is such a nice man, why would you scream?"

"Well because he startled me, silly. Like Prim screams sometimes when you spook her."

"Oh, Daddy didn't mean to scare you though, right?"

I laughed.

"No, of course not. He covered his eyes right away while I jumped into the water because I thought I could swim away." I didn't remember that my clothes wouldn't follow at the time...

"And did he swim with you?" She asked, grinning widely.

"After he said sorry," she interrupted

"why would he say sorry?" I laughed again, Katniss would know the reason soon enough.

"Because he scared me, and when you scare someone, even if you didn't mean to, its polite to apologize to them." She nodded. "I told him he could swim if he wanted to, so he did. And we talked for awhile before we came back home. He lived here and I lived in the apothecary shop still."

"Are you tellin' my darling girl how I met her mother?" Katniss grinned when Reave came into the room, scooping her up and kissing her scrunched up eyes. I smiled.

"Yes I was," I smile at him, tipping my face up for my own kiss. Katniss giggled as he dropped her down into my lap and went off in search of Prim.

"Daddy loves you a lot, doesn't he?" I nod, smiling to myself.

"Yes, I think he does."


	2. Change into something nice

"Hi Katniss." I look up and see Peeta staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. Mine remains blank.  
"Hey." Haymitch nudges me in the ribs and I twist my lips into what I hope looks vaguely like a smile. Then I turn to scowl at Haymitch.  
"How are you, boy?" He asks gruffly.  
"I've been better." It's certainly true, but not just for Peeta, all of us are wounded from the war. My mind flashed to Prim and I quickly start talking to distract myself. Talking about geese and cats and paintbrushes and who knows what. Peeta knows I'm not okay, judging by his face.  
"I have a loaf in the oven, should be ready in a minute, so I'll head inside. Would you two care to join me for dinner?" Haymitch enthusiastically agrees for the both of us, and knowing him, he probably hasn't eaten real food in a few days.  
After Peeta went back inside, Haymitch sighed and glanced over at me.  
"Boy's strong. He just conquered something nobody else has been able to."  
"What do you mean?"  
"He's back, did you see how he looked at you? He wasn't confused at all."  
"You mean he loves me again."  
"Yeah. You're the luckiest girl on the planet, sweetheart. Even if you don't see it."  
"Yeah I guess losing my sister and being deserted by my mother and my best friend at the same time puts me high on the list." He pursed his lips and shook his head but stayed quiet until we got to my house. Haynitch grumbled for me to "change into something nice." I haven't decided if he meant my clothes or my personality.


	3. Thanks for giving me the wrong number au

2012  
Katniss: I have 50 boxes of cake mix, we need to start making cakes ASAP.  
Johanna: I think you got the wrong number, but count me in!  
Katniss: this isn't Johanna?  
Johanna: nope, what's your name?  
Katniss: she must've given me the wrong number.. what a-  
Unknown: did you meet her at a bar or something?  
Katniss: oh my gosh, no! I'm a girl.  
Katniss: I mean, I'm a straight girl.  
Unknown: oh nice, I'm a straight guy ;) jk, I'm still down to help out with the cake tho..  
Katniss: so...  
Katniss: your name is?  
Unknown: oh sorry! I'm Peeta.  
Katniss: Peeta? Are you serious?  
Peeta: mhm, I know it's a stupid name.  
Katniss: no, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude or anything..  
Katniss: I mean, like I didn't know if that was just a fake name bc we haven't met or  
Katniss: not that you should give me a fake name or anything but like  
Katniss: so the cake? I'll stop talking now.  
Peeta: right, haha  
Katniss: oh btw where do you live? There might be logistic issues..  
Peeta: I live in Pittsburgh.  
Katniss: really? Oh that makes sense, the area code and all..  
Peeta: you live here too?  
Katniss: just outside. Wanna come make cake?  
Peeta: just tell me where:)

"Hi, Katniss?" I opened the door to a stocky, blonde guy who looked around my age.  
"Yeah, you must be Peeta?"  
"Yup, I'm here for the cake." He said seriously, and I let him in with a smile.  
"Good, because my sister will be home in a few hours and I want the cakes for her bake sale done by then. And I'm a terrible baker, nor do I like it."  
"You don't like baking?" He inquired.  
"No, I hate it. Like I love eating baked goods, and I assume that it isn't half bad if you're at least a decent baker, but..." I trailed off.  
"Well lucky for you, my dad owned a bakery when I was growing up, I've made more cakes than Hostess." I grinned, heading into our small kitchen that looked straight out of the 90s.  
"Well there's the mix, and I pulled out the other ingredients, just tell me what to do." I said, rolling up my sleeves.  
"Okay, um... do you have a stand up mixer?" I looked at him quizzically. "That's fine, we just need a handheld electric mixer then." I pulled the mixer out of the drawer next to the sink, putting it into Peeta's big hands.  
"And a spatula, and a few measuring cups-" he listed off all of the tools we would need, using what I'd already given him to start things going. I've never seen someone move so fast and confidently in someone else's kitchen. After he got the batter into the pans and in the oven, he leaned against the counter and I sat next to the sink on the counter opposite him.  
"So, school bake sale or?" He inquired.  
"No, animal shelter bake sale. She's one of those animal people that just never stops... she spends all her free time there, wants to be a vet... and all animals she's ever encountered love her."  
"Oh, yeah. I have a friend like that."  
"Yeah, I honestly don't know what to do with her." I laugh, my smile lingering for a moment as I thought of my baby sister. Well, I guess not such a baby anymore. I'm nearly 18 and she just turned 15. I'm a general B student and she's a straight A. I'm the silent stand offish one and she's the exuberant lovable one. And that's exactly as it should be.  
"So how old are you?" I finally ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.  
"I'm 17, I'm turning 18 in a couple months. You?"  
"17." I tell him, not mentioning the fact that I'm at least a month older. He smiles.  
"You're older than me, huh?" I chuckle.  
"Probably a month, my birthday is March 24."  
"I'm May 16, so yeah, only a couple months. Yours is coming up though. You doing anything special?"  
"Probably not, Prim, my sister, might want me to take the day off, but other than that nothing."  
"Really? That sounds... un-18th birthday. That's a milestone."  
"Yeah, I know. I don't really like celebrating my birthday though."  
"Why?" He asked, raising his blonde eyebrows.  
"I-" I stopped myself. "I just don't, too much attention, you know? That's not me-" the oven timer went off, interrupting my awkward ramble. After sticking a toothpick into the center and resetting the timer, Peeta retook his stance against the counter.  
"So what about you, any big plans?" I ask him, hoping he doesn't ask about my birthday again.


	4. Sleeping soundly canon divergent

**This is canon-divergent if Katniss reached out to Peeta before the Victory Tour shortly after the Capitol crew left.**

"Peeta?"

"Hmpf?" He answered, shifting his head on his pillow to look over at me sitting on the edge of his bed. I tried not to let my eyes linger on his broad, muscular back.

"I know-" I started, cutting myself off and trying again. "I know you get nightmares like mine, and," His eyes flitted open to meet mine making me pause. "And I was wondering, are you sleeping okay now or-" I stopped talking before I started rambling.

"How did you get in here?" He asks, his voice deep and raspy with sleep. I shrugged.

"Your window was open." His eyebrows lift.

"You climbed in through my window?"

"Well you weren't answering the door and it was locked, how else do you expect me to get in?" I reason, my face flushing. "I-I just wanted to check on you, you haven't left your house in days and-"

"I didn't know you noticed. Or cared." He responds, letting his eyes close again. I frown. This is the Peeta that I hate, the one who is stand offish because he is hurt. I sigh. I guess I'm the same.

"I do care, Peeta. I can't tell you that I love you because I really don't know, but I do care about you." I explain slowly, thinking about each part before I said it. Peeta's shoulders lift as he huffs out a breath. He rolls over onto his back, his eyes watching me carefully.

"You haven't been sleeping well." I say, although it's more an observation than a question. He shrugs.

"Not used to having so much space to myself, I've been a little jumpy lately."

"Why didn't your family move in here with you?" I ask before I think.

"They don't want to live off the victor's winnings and they don't want to be so far from the bakery."

"Your mom isn't-" I pause, "she's not happy about me, is she." He shakes his head.

"No. Never expected her to be very pleased, though." His eyes closed again. I couldn't think of something to fill the uncomfortable silence, which dragged on for probably a few minutes. But I'm not one for words, so I reached over his bare chest to take his hand in mine, and his eyes popped open. I smiled as gently as I could, trying to apologize without actually saying the words. His eyebrows dipped as he averted his eyes from my face and I continued to hold his hand in both of mine, looking at the new burns he's gotten from baking again.

"You've been baking?" I ask suddenly. He nods. "And painting." I say, noticing the streaks of black, green and red on his forearms and in his hair. Lots of green but mostly red. "Painting the Games." I say so quietly, I don't know if he heard me, or if I want him to. His chest expands and falls again when I brush his curls back from his forehead, tracing my finger down the imprint from a crease in his pillowcase. I bring my hand back down to join the other holding his.

He suddenly sits up, withdrawing his hand from mine and tugging on his hair with a frustrated expression.

"What is it, Katniss? What are you waiting for? You're not talking, you're not doing anything but staring at me, what do you need?" He finally bursts out. I shrug.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay. I've miss you." I say quietly. His eyes squeeze shut for a second before they plead with me.

"Don't do this to me. Not again." He whispers. I shake my head.

"Don't do what?" He huffs, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"You come in here, hold my hand, make me think you care about me, but then you'll leave." He reaches down near my feet to grab his prosthetic and swings both legs off the other side to attach it, not letting me see. I barely register the empty pant leg before he's done and sits with his feet on the floor, back facing me. He leans on his elbows, putting his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. I crawl across to him, and wrap my arms around his middle, resting my face in between his shoulder blades. He stiffens at my touch.

"I'm not leaving you. I didn't in the arena, why would I now?" I whisper. He must hear though, because his face turns a little towards me. I press my lips to the back of his neck. "I won't leave you, I promise." I tell him again. He shivers when the breeze from his still open window blows over his naked upper half.

"Katniss-" he begs, although I don't know what for. I scoot back, pulling him with me.

I tuck us both back under the blankets, shucking my boots and reaching for his left pant leg. He inches his foot away and I look at his face. His bottom lip is between his teeth and his eyes still red lined. I reach for his leg again, resting my hand at his knee, still warm flesh beneath the soft pants, and I ask, "Do you trust me?" He nods imperceptibly, and my hand lowers, pulling up the bottom of his pants to feel for the fastenings. Once I examine it, figuring out how to take it off, I gently remove it, leaning it against the nightstand. When I touch the stump that ends just below his knee, he winces and I draw my hand away.

"I was pacing a lot yesterday, it usually doesn't hurt that bad." He explains. I frown. His legs aren't hairless like they were in the Games, and I definitely prefer them like this. I run my hand down from his knee, gently massaging the muscles as I go. His breathing picks up and he draws his other leg into a bent position.

"Does that hurt?" I ask, quietly. He shakes his head, closing his eyes again. I continue, working silently, listening to his quiet, rapid breaths.

Eventually, I stop and crawl back up to lay next to him. His arm wraps around me as I hear him sigh, and I lay my head on his chest, tucking my feet under his calf to keep them warm. His breathing lulls me to sleep and for the first time since before my father died, I sleep long and sound.


	5. At the graveyard au

**Ugh. I'm so sad after writing this but I saw a prompt for it on Tumblr and I just couldn't resist.**

It's the 26th again. I get off work a few minutes early and buy a single lily and a green fern from the lady who runs the tiny florist shop.

"Thanks Mags," I say, handing her my money. She smiles, rests a hand on mind and squeezes gently. I look down on my way out.

When I get there, I know I'm late. I know because the blond man is already there, just a few graves down. Usually he gets there a few minutes after me, and just stands, looking at the four adjacent graves, laying a bright yellow daisy on two of them, a daffodil on one, and a red carnation on the last. But today he kneels in front of one, the one with the red carnation. Usually he just stares at them and blinks away his tears, but today, his shoulders shake and his hands are pressed to his face.  
I lay my fern down on my father's lonely grave, touching the cool stone and smiling softly. He's one with nature now, just like he always loved.  
My smile drops away when I look back over my shoulder. I make my way softly over to where the man - I should say boy, he's probably no older than I am - is standing still. I rest my hand gently on his shoulder, making him jump.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He sniffs, shaking his head and wiping his cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll be alright." He says shakily, his voice cracking. I open my arms and step closer, and his face scrunches up again as a new wave of sobs are muffled by my shoulder. His arms wrap around me tightly. I stroke his back soothingly, not saying anything. He's warm and solid and _alive_. Something tells me he's been on his own, too. Just like I have, and my heart goes out to him. He finally pulls away, murmuring embarrassed apologies and eyeing my damp shirt. I shake my head, crouching down to put my lily down on the grave with the red carnation, seeing the name there. John Mellark, died three months ago to the day. I remember the small funeral procession, I was here then too, singing next to my dad's grave.

I stood up, taking the boy's hand.

"Do you want to go get some hot chocolate? It will maybe make you feel better." I offer. He lets out a heavy breath and nods.  
I wrap an arm around his waist and we walk together down a couple blocks to Annie's, where I order two hot chocolates and the boy goes into the washroom to splash water on his face. I find us a table next to the window, put his chocolate across and slide into the bench, tracing the wood grain and resting my chin on my other hand.

"I'm really sorry, I don't even know you-" He starts. I smile up at him.

"That's okay. I'm Katniss. I lost my dad too, not that long ago." I tell him.

"I'm sorry. I'm Peeta, I lost my mom, dad and two brothers." He says, another tear running from his downcast eyes. I take a sip of my drink. "Let me pay you back for the chocolate." He reaches for his wallet in his jeans but my hand on his arm stop him.

"It's okay, I know Annie, she didn't charge us." I assure him. His eyebrows go up but he doesn't say anything, drinking some of his hot chocolate. We both look at the table for a few minutes, the silence not uncomfortable, and eventually he looks up. "You're Katniss Everdeen, we went to school together. Elementary school." Now my eyebrows lift.

"You remember me?" I inquire. He nods assuredly.

"You used to sing, all the time. I knew I recognized your voice the day of the burial. Then one day you just disappeared. I never saw you again." I lower my eyes.

"I just moved back with my dad, he got a job here but my mom had to stay out of town for the hospital she worked at. My little sister stayed with her. Now..." I clear my throat. "Now I'm by myself." I take another drink.

"You have a beautiful voice." He compliments gently, sipping his own. I smile, whispering my thanks. We finish our drinks quietly and get up to clear our mugs. I pull out my phone and unlock it, opening up a new contact and handing it to Peeta. A small smile settles on his lips as he types in his information. He hands me his phone as well, telling me, "in case you need someone to laugh or cry with." We walk back to the graveyard together, my arm looped casually around his in a gesture of companionship and comfort. We part ways with a warm embrace and I leave with a smile on my face.


	6. You don't love me

"Katniss?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

"I woke up from a nightmare and couldn't fall back asleep." She whispered, hoping her voice didn't betray her.

"I'm sorry." He said carefully. He sounded so removed it took her by surprise.

"Do you get them?"

"Of course I do." He answered gruffly, turning over on his side facing away from her. She didn't miss his streaked cheeks.

"What happens?"

"I wake up. I paint. I bake. I try to forget and I cry. A lot." He responded almost angrily. It scared her. She reached out and touched his arm, pulling back when he flinched and moved away.

"I'm sorry, Peeta." She whispered. His shoulders started to shake.

"You broke my heart." He tells her plainly, his voice cracking and his sobs cutting off the last word. Tears started rolling down Katniss's cheeks as well.

"I'm sorry, Peeta." She said again, trying once more to touch his arm.

"I don't need your pity! I have enough of my own!" He shouted, sitting up and startling her. "I don't want you to fake it! That makes it so much worse." His voice was nearly inaudible again as he buried his face in his hands. She nodded, reaching out with her palm up.

"I'm not faking this. Not anymore." She assured him, keeping her hand out until he took it. She squeezed it and he held hers close to his chest, to where his heart was beating heavily and curled himself around it.

"Why can nobody love me." He asked himself, so quietly she barely heard him.

"You made the whole world love you. You're everyone's favorite tribute."

"They don't matter. You don't love me."


	7. But mine's cracked

**I feel like we don't see enough of Peeta's frustration with Katniss, because as amazing as he is, he still isn't perfect, and we know he does break things when he's angry.**

~0~

"Well, thanks for coming over, Katniss. It was nice to have some company."

She just nodded and closed the door behind herself. As soon as her form was off his porch, he felt his knee give out and he collapsed onto his couch, head in his hands.

He didn't realize he was crying until the door opened again and he noticed his palms were damp.

"Peeta?" He sniffed hastily, wiping his hands on his pants.

"Did you forget something?" He asked, trying to mask the shakiness in his voice.

"Yeah, I left my-are you crying?" She finally took note of his red eyes.

"I'm fine." He brushed her off, not meeting her gaze.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine." He repeated, looking at her forehead and giving a fake smile. She shook her head and came closer, watching him like she would a frightened animal. She tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her head under his chin.

He sighed and another tear leaked out his eye.

"I'm tired, I'm going to bed now. I'll see you later." He pulled back from her shoulders, not meeting her eyes and swiping his cheeks hastily.

"Peeta, what's going on?"

He shook his head again.

"If I tell you, you'll run and leave me for who knows how long."

She shook her head, but stopped herself abruptly.

"I-I would. I might actually. But I'll try to stay, okay? Please tell me, you have to tell someone and I don't think Haymitch would be that receptive." He chuckled a little at this, a tiny, nervous sound that mocked him in echoes.

"Okay." He said simply, sinking back onto the couch. She sat beside him. He was silent.

"I can't read your mind, you know."

He laughed again, feeling his ears flush.

"Right. Well-" he breathed heavily, "you know how I feel about you." He could see Katniss fighting the urge to stop him, and watched until she nodded slowly.

"And well... I know how you feel about me. Well, I know what you don't feel for me. So I guess really... it's mainly... I'm tired."

"No, tell me, Peeta."

"That's it. I'm tired of faking everything. Except I'm not faking it, which just kills me and I'm tired of things being taken from us for the cameras and I'm tired of forcing you into this THING between us and I-" he put his head into his hands. "I'm just tired."

He didn't hear her move but suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back into the couch. He watched her warily as she leaned closer. He didn't move away as her lips collided with his and though his eyes stayed wide open, hers fluttered shut almost immediately. He forced her back when the sounds of his fragmented heart cracking even more reached his ears. He looked at her and she bit her lip self consciously. He groaned, running his hand through his hair and then yelled in frustration. She looked taken aback.

"Sorry-"

"Katniss, I-" he began, swallowing hard. He grabbed her hand and stood, dragging her hastily into the kitchen where he searched his cabinets frantically. He held up a wine glass by its fragile stem. His hand shook in between their faces as he pointed to it. He couldn't find words for once, to describe what he was feeling. He groaned again, rubbing his face.

"I-I can't, I-" another year greeted his cheek and he swiped his arm across it. "This!" He nearly shouted, throwing the delicate glass down, stomping on its cracked remains. "This is what you do every time you pretend," stomp, "every time you say you love me," crunch, "every fucking time that I believe you're telling the truth and have to remind myself that it's all a big Game!" His knee buckled and he fell to the floor, shards of glass embedding themselves in his palms. Ignoring the sharp pricks, he sat until he couldn't bear her silence any more. He didn't dare look up. But he reached out to touch her calf, confirming she hadn't run. When she felt his hand, she immediately made for the door.

"Every fucking time!" He sobbed after her. "What did I do? What did I do!?" He yelled into the emptiness. He stood again, suddenly revitalized but fueled by anger and heartbreak. He yelled and yelled, breaking six more wine glasses and crushing the glass under his feet.

"If my heart can't be whole, why should you!" He cursed the destroyed glass. He yelled more curses until his voice was hoarse and scratchy and he collapsed onto the countertop. The sound of the door roused him and he screeched, "Leave me alone!" to whoever came in. The visitor paused but came in anyway.

"You ran." He accused. "You ran again." She didn't respond, instead taking his hand and turning it over. It was covered in blood, and much of his beloved kitchen was too. She gently picked out each shard from his palm, using tweezers he recognized as her mother's. When she has gotten the visible ones out, she turned on the sink and gently washed over the skin to get the blood off. He hisssd when the water touched his skin, but she held his shaking wrist and continued anyway. When she was done, she wrapped it in a towel and repeated her actions on the other hand. Using some kind of herbal ointment and strips of what looked like old dresses, she bandaged both hands up and led him to the couch in the next room. She sat him down and removed his boots, commanding him sternly "don't move." He didn't answer and she moved back into the kitchen, where he could hear her sweeping and wiping his counters and cabinets. When she came back in, she smiled at him, and curled up beside him.

"Katniss-"

"Somewhere along the line..." she began slowly, cutting him off, "it stopped being an act for me."


End file.
